


Happenstance

by celeste9



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Multi, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Star Wars: A New Hope, Shippy Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 16:12:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12172326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: Obi-Wan watched Luke Skywalker and the Larses only from a distance....Or at least, that was what Obi-Wan had meant to do.





	Happenstance

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: “My mom told me I shouldn’t talk to strangers, and you’re definitely strange.” This came out less shippy than I intended when I started but as rain_sleet_snow says, theirs is a very slow seduction. :D

Obi-Wan watched Luke Skywalker and the Larses only from a distance.

This was for the best. No interference. His only goal was to keep Luke safe.

In time, maybe, there would be –

But that was the future. For now, Luke was a bright, happy boy who was flourishing in the desert, loved and well cared for. He had no need for an old man’s meddling.

Only his watchful eye.

Which, it turned out, proved useful.

It was happenstance, honestly, that brought Obi-Wan to Anchorhead at the same time as Luke and his aunt. He was planning on ducking out of the shop as quickly as possible, just as soon as he stopped being distracted by Luke’s big blue eyes and –

The Rodian in the corner had a blaster. For a moment Obi-Wan considered letting it play out. He wasn’t a Jedi. This wasn’t his business.

But Luke was there.

“You don’t want to do this,” Obi-Wan said quietly, his hand on the Rodian’s wrist, keeping the blaster down and hidden.

“I don’t want to do this,” the Rodian agreed, and that was it.

Only a small blonde-headed Skywalker was gazing up at Obi-Wan like a vision from his past, making his heart ache. “Did you make him leave?” the boy asked.

“Of course not. He was already on his way out.”

“No, he wasn’t. I saw you.”

“I’m afraid you were mistaken.”

“I’m not a liar,” the boy insisted. “And you’re weird. You’re that old wizard, out in the Jundland Wastes.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “Wizard?”

Luke nodded fervently. “Biggs says so, and he’s bigger than me. He’s always right.”

“Then it must be true.”

Luke was watching him carefully, like he thought Obi-Wan might be teasing him. “My aunt Beru told me not to talk to strangers, and you’re definitely strange.”

“Your aunt Beru is a wise woman.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know Aunt Beru?”

“Not exactly.” Obi-Wan glanced around the room. “You really shouldn’t talk to strangers, though. Don’t let your aunt catch you.”

As if on cue, a woman called, “Luke!”

“Oh,” Luke said, and Obi-Wan was already turning away, face hidden in his raised hood.

The last thing he needed was Beru Whitesun Lars catching him chatting with Luke.

He ducked out of the shop, turning once to see Luke chattering excitedly to his bemused aunt.

-

The next time was happenstance as well. Obi-Wan was at Tosche Station looking for a part to repair his moisture vaporator and obviously he couldn’t have known that Luke would be sitting outside the door to the repair shop, fiddling with a power droid that appeared to have seen better days.

“Ben Kenobi,” Luke said, before Obi-Wan could duck out and pretend he had never been there.

Slowly Obi-Wan turned back to him. “Well met,” he said.

“I knew that was you. Old Ben.”

Regardless of how Obi-Wan might think of himself, surely he wasn’t actually old enough to have earned an ‘old’ label. Damn. When had young people become so… so… so blasted young? “I suppose your Biggs will have told you that as well.”

Luke nodded, tongue caught between his teeth as he wrenched a bolt loose from the droid. “He’s always right. Told you.”

“You did.”

“Uncle Owen’s inside. He says he’s got to haggle. Because he’ll be a Hutt before he settles for their prices.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the small smile that spread unbidden. “Having trouble with your droid?”

Shrugging, Luke said, “I told Uncle Owen I could do it myself. It’s only a problem with the power distribution.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said, and ignored the ache in his chest.

“Need some parts though.”

“Right. The haggling.”

“Yeah.”

“Luke!” a man called. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Hang on!” Luke shouted back. He scrambled upright, looking at Obi-Wan. “I don’t think you’re really a stranger anymore, so probably Aunt Beru wouldn’t mind. Will you still be out here?”

“I’m afraid I--” Obi-Wan waved his hand vaguely. “It’s quite a trip.”

Luke’s face fell. “Oh. Okay.”

“I’ll see you again,” Obi-Wan found himself promising hollowly, just to bring back Luke’s cheer.

 _Blast,_ he thought, and deliberately did not think that Luke’s smile was the perfect blend of his parents.

-

Three times, Obi-Wan told himself, could be happenstance still. He was sure it could be.

He was also sure that Luke had inherited the very worst bit of Anakin’s adventure-seeking, daredevil nature.

The Roiya Rift, really. Did the boy have no sense at all? He could easily get lost in the labyrinth of passages, and worse, he could find himself the prey of Tusken Raiders. The Jundland Wastes were no place for a child.

Nor, even, two children.

“You must be Biggs,” Obi-Wan said to the dark-haired boy Luke was accompanied by, a few years older, taller and sturdier. Shame he wasn’t more sensible in turn.

The boy gave a careful, tight-lipped nod that suggested Obi-Wan looked as disapproving as he was intending. “Yes, sir.”

“The speeder back there is yours, I take it?”

Biggs nodded again.

“But the idea,” Obi-Wan said, gaze dropping to Luke, “I think was yours.”

Luke kicked at a rock with the toe of his boot. “Maybe.”

“And I’m sure your aunt and uncle know exactly where you are.”

“Don’t tell them!”

Luke looked genuinely terrified. Obi-Wan took this as proof that the boy did actually have a brain that worked, and understood that he had made a mistake.

That was something, anyway.

“Do you realize the Sand People hunt here? Hide in these rock formations?”

Luke looked down at his feet, chagrined. Biggs was correspondingly silent.

Obi-Wan sighed. “I won’t tell your aunt and uncle if you promise me you won’t come out here again.”

Shaking his head vehemently, Luke said, “I won’t! I promise! We promise! Don’t tell Aunt Beru!”

“All right. Now, get out of here.”

“Yes, sir, Mister Kenobi, sir,” Biggs said, pushing at Luke.

Luke glanced back at Obi-Wan from over his shoulder as he ran, looking just like Anakin had as a padawan who knew he had got away with murder.

Obi-Wan followed them discretely all the way back to the Lars homestead, just in case.

-

The fourth time was on purpose. Obi-Wan could admit that at least.

He had just… had a bad feeling, and Obi-Wan knew better than to ignore niggling bad feelings. Luke’s presence sang brightly in the Force and just now he was…

Luke wasn’t in danger, Obi-Wan knew, but he was hurting. It wasn’t Obi-Wan’s job to soothe all of Luke’s aches; he had family for that.

And yet somehow Obi-Wan found himself outside the Lars’ homestead, wondering how he had got himself into this.

“I am afraid I learned too well from you, Master,” Obi-Wan murmured, and sighed.

He was clearly not needed, anyway. It appeared that Luke must have taken a fall; Obi-Wan saw Owen and Beru crouching by him and carefully tending to him before Owen lifted the boy into his arms to take inside. Beru looked up once but Obi-Wan was concealed on the far side of the raised entry dome, away from the door. As long as he didn’t cough or otherwise draw attention to himself, they would never note his presence.

 _Blasted meddler,_ Obi-Wan thought to himself. The boy was fine. It was why he had left him here in the first place - Owen and Beru would love him like their own. Luke deserved to be safe and cared for, for as long as that was possible.

Obi-Wan had few illusions that it would be possible for very long. Sooner or later his past would find him. All Obi-Wan could do was give him a stable place to grow and thrive, and hope that when the time came, he would be able to make Luke ready.

“Luke is fine,” a woman’s voice said, and Obi-Wan nearly fell over himself, he was so startled.

“Yes! Er, yes, I was just…” He blinked at the figure of Beru Whitesun Lars, who was watching him and looking deeply, deeply unimpressed.

“Snooping outside our home and watching our small boy?”

Obi-Wan thought he should be too old to blush, but apparently that wasn’t true. “I would never--”

Beru sighed. “I know you worry about him, but you were the one who suggested it would be best if you kept your distance, Ben Kenobi. For Luke’s safety, whatever that means.”

“That is still true.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I felt… I thought…” Obi-Wan exhaled and tried again. “You’re right. I do worry, but I know that’s needless. He has everything he needs from you.”

“He’s a friendly boy. He enjoys visitors, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

 Obi-Wan frowned. “I am?”

“You’re not half as good at lurking as you think you are.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I saw you in that shop in Anchorhead, talking to Luke, and I know you were outside Tosche Station, too. If you want to visit with Luke, you only need to ask.”

“I think it’s best I don’t.”

Beru crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t ask?”

“Don’t visit with him.”

“Well, you’re doing a hell of a job of it.”

Obi-Wan resisted a childish urge to scuff his toes on the ground and duck his head, making a smaller target.

Beru looked away and then to Obi-Wan. “I’m going inside to finish lunch. If you’d like to check on Luke – for real – I’ll set another plate. Your choice.”

She turned towards the entryway without waiting for a response.

Obi-Wan hesitated a moment, and then he followed. He imagined that he could hear Qui-Gon’s rueful laughter.

He went after Beru through the passage to their underground homestead, going down a few steps and into the courtyard. Beru was already passing the large moisture vaporator to head into one of the rooms but Obi-Wan found himself distracted by a shout.

“Ben!”

Blinking at Luke’s small figure, Obi-Wan said, “Hello.”

Luke’s smile was wide. “Are you coming to lunch?” There was a bandage around his forearm.

“Are you all right?” Obi-Wan asked, ignoring the boy’s question.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah! Uncle Owen already fixed me up. I shouldn’t have been running, I guess. They always tell me not to run.”

“And maybe one of these days you will actually listen.” Owen’s expression was only mock-stern when he looked at Luke, but as his gaze moved over to Obi-Wan, his face hardened. “Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan inclined his head. “Owen.”

“I wasn’t aware we were about to have a visitor.”

“Beru suggested I might--”

“You know we don’t only turn on our perimeter sensors at night.”

Obi-Wan felt the flush overtake him. Idiot. “I… Yes, of course.”

“Uncle Owen,” Luke said, a trace of a whine in his voice. “Ben is my friend. He can stay for lunch, can’t he?”

The immediate switch from controlled displeasure back to slightly exasperated fondness when Owen’s focus dropped down to Luke only highlighted to Obi-Wan how absolutely right it had been to leave Luke with the Lars family.

It was easier to think of that than to dwell on the surge of warmth in his belly at Luke’s declaration, or the tendrils of guilt that he thought he would never lose.

“Well,” Owen said. “It seems your aunt’s already set him a place at the table. We try to be polite around here.”

“Yes,” Beru agreed, calling from the doorway through which she had earlier disappeared. “We do, and that includes you, Owen. Now come and eat, or you’re on your own.”

“Ugh, no,” Luke said, running, despite Owen’s rebuke not five minutes ago. “Uncle Owen’s cooking is the worst!”

“It isn’t the worst,” Owen grumbled. “It’s practical.”

“It’s like you think you have to kill everything _again_ when you cook it!”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the smile that touched his mouth. Yes, this had absolutely been right.

The meal was less awkward than it could have been, which Obi-Wan attributed mostly to Luke’s endearingly enthusiastic cheerfulness, as well as Beru’s willing openness. She had welcomed Obi-Wan into their home and seemed determined to do right by that. Owen’s effort at politeness didn’t go unnoticed, either.

After, as Luke washed up, Obi-Wan made his excuses before there came a fear of overstaying his welcome. It could be said he had already done so, of course, but he was choosing to be optimistic.

“You are not unwelcome here,” Beru told him.

“Really,” Obi-Wan said, with a wry glance towards her husband.

“As long as you are Ben Kenobi, the odd man who lives out on in the Jundland Wastes,” Beru said firmly, “Owen will have no problem.”

 _And if he does,_ Beru’s eyes seemed to say, _I will deal with it._

“The only name I have is Ben Kenobi,” Obi-Wan said, because that had to be true now.

If there came a need for something different, well, it would hopefully be a long time off.

-

Having an open invitation, Obi-Wan felt, only meant that it would be rude never to accept it. He told himself that was why he sitting with Beru and Owen and aiding them in some minor repair work - that he was certain they could have done easily without him - while Luke and Biggs played a game involving model starships.

“No running near the vaporators,” Owen admonished, which only got Luke to alter his path very slightly.

Personally Obi-Wan felt that running near the vaporators was preferable to taking speeders into the Jundland Wastes and Owen should be suitably mollified, but of course, that would mean admitting to Owen that he’d seen Luke and Biggs in the Jundland Wastes in the first place. Obi-Wan wasn’t quite prepared to do that.

He wasn’t sure which would be worse - Luke’s crestfallen disappointment at the breaking of their bargain, or whatever Beru and Owen would do to him for keeping the secret this long.

Best not to find out either way.

“Luke likes you,” Owen said gruffly.

Obi-Wan gaped in surprise, fingers fumbling on the wrench in his hand. “Good?”

Beru was smiling, small and bemused.

“And you’re handier than I expected,” Owen continued.

Unsure what to say without simply repeating himself, Obi-Wan didn’t say anything at all. Neither did Owen, his attention back on the machinery.

“In other words,” Beru broke in, “you continue to be welcome here.”

Obi-Wan quietly watched Luke play, and thought that the warmth in his chest rivaled the heat from Tatooine’s midday suns.

**_End_ **


End file.
